Damsel
by whimsee
Summary: A peasant named Rachel Berry is about to get her big break on a royal ship. Unfortunately, a ruthless captain and her hazel-eyed first mate are about to ruin her chances at stardom.
1. Chapter 1

This was it. Today, Rachel Berry would take fate into her own hands and seize the fame and stardom she (unquestionably) deserved. Ambitious and fierce brown eyes met an identical pair, via reflection, as she stared into the shard of mirror nestled in her hands. She took the lone piece with her everywhere she went and had done so from a young age. It was silly, but it meant a lot to the girl. The precious item lay sheathed in a worn cloth, her thumbs gently caressing the fabric as she mentally recited her daily monologue. Over the years, she found life to be more bearable with a few encouraging words formed into a delightful little mantra.

Using her various, well-honed talents (such as singing, acting, dancing, and all things theatrical), she would catch a noble's attention and finally be someone worth more than the sideways glance she was accustomed to. She would prove that greatness was not determined by gender, aristocratic blood, or family connections. It was through hard work and shear aptitude.

Kurt sighed, a tad overdramatically, as was his usual, when he spotted her at the highest point of the ship – the lookout station. Compared to the ruffles, ribbons, and cascading, over-the-top bows the women he catered to wore, Rachel stood in a mere petticoat, a carefully woven top, and a shawl keeping the cold at bay. It was sad to see her in what she would call her best attire. However, she was gazing up at the night sky with a faraway look on her face; thinking of things so much bigger than herself and her present limitations.

"Turn around, bright eyes."

The young man greeted as he leaned against the white wooden pole, brushing a lock of his groomed hair behind his ear as he spoke. Rachel made a startled sound in the back if her throat, one that resembled a frightened puppy, and nearly fell out of the small confinement.

"K-Kurt!" She shouted as she clung to the railing for much needed support. The heels she were given did not help and since she wasn't used to such fancy footwear, she stumbled even more and nearly whined as she tried to keep her balance.

"You're a natural up there." he teased in his ever girlish way as he gave her his signature smile, clearly enjoying her many struggles.

"What, might I ask, are you doing out here?" The brunette questioned in a forced calm tone as she carefully, oh so carefully, made her way down the ladder, one shaky step at a time.

"I could ask you the same, but alas, I already know the answer. More to the point, General Schuester and his," he paused to make air quotations. "'esteemed guests' want their performance of the evening."

Kurt explained coolly as he turned his back to her approaching form and smoothed out the waiter's robes he had been given not five minutes prior. It was quite dull in appearance, a dreary, despicable grey, but far more pleasing to the eye than the scraps of cloth he previously sported. It would have shamed him to be in the same room as the nobles in his previous attire if it weren't for his natural pride in himself.

He could hear the sharp intake of breath, a nervous, exaggerated trait of hers, among many others. Rachel looked at him fearfully and due to working with her for two years, he knew of her silent inquiry right away.

"They've had a few drinks, yes."

She instantly drew her bottom lip between her teeth, alternating between sucking and tentatively biting the pink flesh. Drinking was bad. Her audience would not only be intoxicated from the wine, but also from each other's presence and they would fail to appreciate her show. However, she wouldn't let pessimism get to her. She was Miss Rachel Barbara Berry and absolutely nothing would come between her and her dream.

She would make sure of it.

Giving him a resolute nod, she faced the doorway, and unable to peer through the window, due to height difference, she looked over her shoulder at Kurt. He immediately made eye contact with a William Schuester and gave him a curt (aha, punny) nod, telling him she was ready.

"Go for gold, Rach." He lightly gripped her shoulder before giving her a soft push towards the door. She turned the golden knob and tentatively made her way into the extravagant room. The theme seemed to be white and gold (the military's main colors) and the guests themselves looked like proud, albeit drunken, troops. This did not raise her spirits. Swallowing back a nervous lump, she made her way towards the middle of what she assumed was the dance floor.

The polished wooden floor nearly made her stumble, her heels squeaking against it as she walked. Her nerves were flaring up again, but she would be damned if she let it get to her. Once she was well situated and the band was aware of her presence, Will Schuester stood and tapped his spoon against his wine glass.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Miss Rachel Berry."

There were several respectful claps and someone slurred out some sort of pick-up line.

Tonight would be interesting, but she would persevere.

After she was given her cue, she immediately began singing. It was a well known tune, she could tell by the looks that registered on some of the guests' faces. Rachel herself could never tell, for she would merely sing songs she heard on the streets. Sit outside the same shop long enough and her killer memory would prove useful.

As the jingle began to get more dramatic, she started to throw herself further into her performance, that faraway look back on her face and her arms animatedly moving to the lyrics, telling a story of their own. She closed her eyes as the chorus came to an end, a lone tear trailing down her cheek. She couldn't stop herself from crying, it happened every performance. If she had to guess, she would say that it was because of how badly she wanted recognition and just how much devotion she put into a single song. She always took lyrics to heart.

The brunette was just nearing the end of the song when the sound of splintering wood crashed through the air. The girls began to scream, as noble women are prone to do, and even Rachel herself gave off a shriek. Will was already standing up, sobering instantly as he approached a ready group of men to follow him down to the cabins.

Meanwhile, Rachel stood like a deer in headlights, her heart pounding, and her mind coming up with ridiculous scenarios. However, her thoughts were abruptly cut off due to the sudden appearance of a blonde woman with fairly short hair bursting through a window. Once she was stationary, she let go of the rope in her hands and began dusting off her robes. She sported thick, worn boots that reached her knees, matching black pants stuffed inside them. A tight necked satin top was covered by a crimson cloak, the color bright enough to be caught in a crowd. A musketeer's hat was on her head, a long feather protruding from the top. Worse of all, there was a white eye patch covering her left eye. Nonetheless, she looked quite proper, but rough, and dare I say cruel as well.

The room was as silent the sea itself, many too afraid to make a sound and catch the stranger's attention. A woman in the back was clinging to her man's arm, as if prepared to climb up him as a means of escape. Rachel couldn't, wouldn't move a muscle and for once hoped she didn't stick out.

The woman was fairly recognizable, for her wanted poster was hung upon nearly every wall in London. Captain Sue Sylvester of the ManEater. Her group of "harpies" were well known for pillaging towns and killing all of their men. Judging from her appearance on their vessel, she still held a grudge for William Schuester. Rumor had it that he was the one who blinded her and had her imprisoned for a decade.

A sharp whistle came from the pirate's lips, the noise causing Rachel to flinch and before she knew it, another woman came through the same window.

She was slightly shorter than the first, but shared the same blonde hair, though hers was covered by a black bandana. These locks stopped at her shoulders in choppy lengths, as though it were cut only a few hours beforehand. Her hazel eyes held a stony resignation and the set of her jaw seemed to further prove it.

She was wearing a loosely fitted, slightly ruffled shirt, usually worn by a man, and a navy cloak. A white sash was tightly fastened around her waist from underneath and from the dark smudges on it; it was safe to say that she was slightly injured. She joined her elder's side in seconds, her hand at her rapier. It was an odd weapon, usually reserved for fencing, and while it appeared to suit the woman, it did not suit her occupation.

"Now tell me." The older of the two spoke as she began to strut across the room, her eyes meeting each guest. "Where is William Schuester?"

She huffed a displeased laugh at the silence she was given and looked back at her companion. "Always the hard way. Call the Harpies, Ondine."

A few guests gasped, instantly recognizing the term, but not having associated it with her companion. Ondines were known to be mythical aquatic creatures capable of stealing a man's soul by marrying them and bearing their child. It was a common insult to a woman who was deemed unfit for marriage and society. When one falls into an ill sleep, it is known as the Ondine's Curse, in fear that one may have hypnotized them, as they were known to do to those who infuriated them.

The so called Ondine retreated to the broken window and stuck her head out the window before singing a high note, one that Rachel herself felt confident of being able to hit. Within seconds, seven other women had forced their way onto the ship.

One of the men arose from his seat and ran up to the superior, prepared to protect the women who were left behind. The captain gave him a mere glance before reaching into her robes and pulling out a pistol, instantly shooting him in the stomach. He met the cold, hard floor and in that one moment, all hell had broke loose.

The sound of the gunshot seemed to knock Rachel into her senses, sending her into survival mode. She had to get out of here. Get Kurt and escape. That was her mission.

While the captain laughed at the man's foolishness and the girlish shrieks emanating the room, the brunette slowly slipped off to the side of the room, but her movements did not go unnoticed.

Hazel eyes had caught on to her sudden relocation and watched her curiously. Rachel was whispering to members of the band, her face a mask of concentration. She should warn her master.

"Captain, I-"

A tuba, followed by several brass horns, sounded and the captain whipped her head back at the sudden commotion. She immediately barked out orders to both silence the noise and to have some of her women make sure none escaped.

However, Rachel had already slipped out the door and was on the other side, pinned to the doorway. Her heart pulsed in her ears and she had to squeeze her eyes shut as her breathing came out harsh and panicky. The brunette was literally jerked away from her small safe haven as another explosion went off. It was then that she realized what was going on.

They were sinking.

This woman, whoever she was, clearly had no intention of simply negotiating with Schuester and being on her way. She was out to kill the man and everyone involved.

Fear struck her very essence and for the hundredth time that night, she didn't know what she would do. But one thing was for certain. She had to move. And fast.

"Captain Sylvester, I'm certain one did escape."

"Well you know what to do then, Ondine. After them!"

The Ondine nodded sharply and wretched the door she saw the brunette escape through open. She never let one escape. It was what put her in good favors with the captain.

She scanned the deck, looking for any signs of the woman, her finger tracing a pattern on the handle of her rapier.

Ah, there.

Movement to her right. A shuffling, really.

Her boots, though heavy, barely made a sound when she moved. It was as though she glided across the floor. Like a natural killer, she was silent.

"Kurt, we need to get out of here!" A desperate voice spoke and frantic movements were heard. "I know I'm often one for theatrics but I-"

Rachel's words were cut off by a small, sharp pain prodding her between the shoulder blades. It was the insisting nudge of a well-cared for fencing sword. Kurt hadn't even noticed the attacker's presence and unfortunately when he finally did, it was too late.

"M'lady." The blonde greeted in a light tone, despite the threatening of her rapier. The brunette tensed against its point, the action only causing it to dig in a little deeper. The rogue studied her movements with a sick fascination, her eyes flicking to Kurt's frightened look with similar interest. "Now… Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pierce your lovely skin and spear your heart on my sword."

Rachel gulped at her words, forcing down a nervous lump as she stared resolutely ahead, her gaze drifting to her dear friend every now and then. "B-Because…" She stopped to clear her throat, unwilling to come off as weak to the woman. "Because one day I will become someone greater than you."

She had no doubt about it. She would become someone who far surpasses a mere pirate, no matter how well-known the pirate was. Yes, she had seen the Ondine's wanted poster before. The blonde was smirking in the photo, lightly licking her lips and staring at the viewer head on. It was unsettling.

The Ondine blinked away her surprise before narrowing her eyes and looking at her prey in a new light. "Interesting last words."

"They won't be my last." Rachel curled her hands into fists and dared to look over her shoulder at the blonde.

The pirate didn't know how to take those words. A part of her felt rage at being spoken to as if she couldn't, as if she wouldn't, simply kill the girl. Another part of her felt… What? Admiration? Was that it?

"What is your name, girl?" She settled for this. If she had to kill such a brave girl, she would at least like to know her name.

"What is yours?" She asked unblinkingly and the blonde's teeth clenched. Rachel was not making things any easier for herself.

"The Ondine."

"Yes, I'm aware of your alias. But I was asking for your name."

A blonde brow rose as she surveyed the girl. "My alias is all you deserve to know."

"Then fine, you don't get to know my name." Rachel crossed her arms and looked away from the pirate with a huff.

What.

Was.

Going.

On.

"Well, Damsel, I suppose I am just out of luck."

"Excuse you?"

Rachel turned on her heel and faced her attacker, her brows pulled together in a mixture of confusion and slight anger. Intriguing, she was. The blonde was rather interested.

"Abandon ship! Harpies, return to your battle stations!"

The cry was heard and the Ondine let a slight growl slip past her lips. Apparently this was more serious than she originally thought. She had hoped that the Captain would simply show up, shoot the man, and move on with life. But things were never that easy with her and apparently the man was adept at fighting. However, the Captain was a master at sea-warfare and once the Harpies were on deck of the ManEater, he would meet his match.

"I believe that is our cue, Damsel."

The rogue took a few quick steps towards the performer before picking her up and slinging her over her shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?" Rachel pounded her fists into the woman's back and kicked her legs, the long limbs nearly smacking the woman in the face. "Let me go this instant!"

Kurt, after suddenly regaining control over his body, grabbed the blonde's wrist and pulled, stopping her from escaping with his best friend. "I won't let you take her!"

The Ondine shot him an amused smile before she turned, lifted her knee, and swiftly kicked him in the chest, sending him into a few barrels of rum.

"Kurt!" Rachel's movements became more panicky and unstable as she squirmed and writhed to escape the stranger's grip and go to him. "Please! No!"

The Ondine simply continued marching onward towards the cannons on the side of the ship, knowing that she could easily cut a rope from the sails and swing onto the ManEater from there.

"How dare you not only attempt to kidnap me but attack Kurt like that! I will make sure that you are hanged for your actions!" The woman on her shoulder began a long, fairly annoying tangent, and it was starting to irk her captor.

"Now listen here. I know Daddy must have paid good money to get you on this vessel, but guess what? You're mine now." She explained as if it were common fact as she removed her rapier from its confines.

"I belong to no one!" A flabbergasted Rachel shouted as she began kicking once more.

"I could always kill you, then."

"I would rather die than belong to anyone other than the theater!" She huffed, crossing her arms and roughly shoving her shoulder against the woman's neck, trying to get her to drop her.

"You'd rather die?"

That was amusing; the blonde concluded as she sliced the rope and began climbing onto the railing on the side of the ship.

"Gladly!"

"Then I won't give you the pleasure." Taking a step back, hazel eyes scanned the distance between the two ships.

"Excuse me, but exactly what are you-" The screaming seemed to cut off her words, the noise coming from her own mouth as they pulled off the insane feat of swinging from one ship onto another.

"Welcome to the ManEater, my captive."

The Ondine smiled over her shoulder as they safely landed on the deck, surrounded by Harpies.


	2. Chapter 2

"I will not stand for this! You will take me back to Mr. Schuester's ship at once!" Rachel decided to throw in a good stomp or two to help prove her point as she glared at her captor, refusing to eye the several other… intimidating women present.

"Would you prefer it if I throw her over-board or would you like the honors?" A Latina woman spoke, hands on her hips as she eyed the Damsel with clear disgust. She was sporting very much the same thing as the majority of the Harpies except her attire was more revealing, so to speak. There were rips and tears that led very little to the imagination and her cleavage proved to be quite distracting. However, she carried an air that seemed to say that she was well aware of the effect she was having on your undergarments and it bothered Rachel on a surprising degree.

"How about you keep to your own devices and I keep to mine." The Ondine subtly threatened, her eyes narrowing at the lower-ranking woman. She had dealt with her many a time before and she absolutely refused to take a hint. Yes, the blonde had slept with her on numerous occasions, as she did with most of the women on the ship, but Santana Lopez was not one to leave it as a simple fuck. She enjoyed the thrill of pissing her off.

"And what? Let you get too attached _again_?" She spoke, stressing her final word as she stepped closer. "You should let me save you the trouble and put a bullet in her chest now while it's nice and convenient."

"Santana. Stop it, you're being mean." Another blonde spoke, a pout on her face. She slipped her hand into the others and immediately entwined their fingers. At the close contact, Santana's face lost all harshness and she looked back at her, her brows knitted together.

"But Britt, you know how this'll end; I'm just saving her the trouble."

"I know, but it's O's call, not yours."

Santana slowly nodded after thinking it through and smiled at her companion, but it died the moment she heard one Lauren Zizes' voice. "Look who's whipped!"

"No voy a tratar de nuevo con ustedes! Tiene alguna idea dedónde soy? Voy a patear el culo arriba y abajo esta cubierta!" (Loose translation: I will not deal with you again! Do you have any idea where I'm from? I will kick your ass up and down this deck!)And with that, the Latina had lunged forward and began swinging her arms, never one to tolerate such behavior from anyone.

The Ondine made a noise that sounded like an odd mixture between a growl and a sigh as she grabbed a fascinated Rachel by the wrist and dragged her away. She only left for she knew the Harpies would sort it out themselves. She could already hear Brittany struggling and yelling at Santana to 'stop the violence'.

"Wait! What are you doing? Where are you taking me?" It was then that the brunette noticed that they weren't headed to the railing to escape, but down a corridor and to a room in the far back. The door was as wide as three or four of her standing side by side and looked like worn cherry wood bark. It had an air of mystery to it and Rachel couldn't deny that she was curious about what was inside. She only hoped this wasn't a tale of curiosity killing the cat.

The blonde pulled a bronze key from her cloak sleeve and scanned the hallway, making sure no one was in sight before she slipped it in its lock and opened the door, lightly pushing Rachel inside first.

The girl fumbled into the room and was immediately met with the surprising scent of lilacs, an expensive fragrance that was especially hard to find. So all in all, the room dripped with sensuality. A large, darkly colored bed took up most of the space and there were candles amongst the few dressers and table stands present. The wooden floor was polished with more care than the outside and they were even free of battle scratches. Glancing up, the brunette was thrown off guard by mirrors all along the ceiling. They made her stomach twist and she wasn't sure why.

"These are my chambers. If I discover that you have spent your time in anywhere other than here and the prisoner's quarters… I'll make sure you know my word is law." Normally the Damsel would defy words such as these, but what with the way those hazel eyes seemed to glow in the dimly lit room, she found herself unable to speak.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a battle to coordinate." The blonde flashed her a sly, almost mocking smile, before she slipped out of the room. The sound of a lock clicking into place snapped Rachel out of her mini-stupor and caused her eyes to widen in surprise. Now that she was alone, she looked back, taking in the room with a frantic glance. The Damsel did not the idea of being confined to a foreign space.

To be honest, this was not good.

Now that she had the time to dwell on her predicament, its seriousness became more apparent to her. Here she was, in a wanted pirate's territory, on a well-known battleship, after being kidnapped in the middle of what was soon to be some intense sea-warfare.

What would she do next? How could she possibly escape?

She took in a deep breath, slowly releasing it after holding it in for a few seconds. There was no point in losing her grip so early in the game. She was Rachel Barbara Berry. She would find a solution and look good doing it.

So to start, she would find something to help her get out of this room. It was one small barrier to a much larger problem. While normally she would not be okay with going through one's belongings, she felt that manners could be pushed aside in this particular scenario.

Gingerly sliding a drawer open, she scanned the items, looking for a weapon or anything to help her pry the door ajar. Inside were several slips of parchment, some a faded and others a crisp white. She even spotted a few royal letters from her Majesty, her golden wax seal keeping them closed. Rachel scrunched her nose and lightly pouted in confusion. Why would a pirate own something like this?

Shaking her head, she shut the drawer and moved on to the next. Focus, Rachel. You need to find a knife or at least something heavy.

Something… heavy?

Brown eyes sparkled in mischief as she gazed at the door, an idea brewing in that clever mind of hers.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Schuester, if I may?"<p>

Kurt, with a slightly noticeable limp, approached the clearly stressed Will with a serious look on his usually carefree face.

"As I'm sure you know, Captain Sylvester is best at sea-warfare. I suggest you bring her to land or at least engage her on her own ship. And need I remind you, she has one of our own." His teeth clenched as he ground out the last sentence, angered by the fact that he let that happen and that Mr. Schuester had yet to do anything about it.

"I know Kurt, I know." The man sighed softly as he ran his hand through his oily, far too groomed than necessary, hair. "We'll try to board the ManEater, but it's risky."

"I'm not going to even explain how much it's worth it because if you were paying attention to her performance at all, you'd already know it." And with that, Kurt stomped off, prepared to find his own solution if need be.

* * *

><p>"Ready the canons and make sure they're aimed at the rudders. We want them to sink as quickly as possible." The Ondine dealt out orders as she crossed the main deck, hands in her cloak's pockets while she examined every inch of her home. The torn crimson sails and black wood of the ManEater always captivated her in times of battle. The ship itself looked like an omen, simply reeking with death.<p>

"I don't understand why we have to listen to her; she's not even the Captain." An unfortunate soul mumbled under her breath and the blonde froze mid-step. Her rapier was drawn in an instant and the blade was against the woman's throat before either could blink.

"I suggest you watch your mouth, lest you wish to die."

The ginger-haired girl trembled beneath her gaze and nodded as fast as she could while avoiding whiplash. Satisfied by her reaction, the blonde left to resume her duties. Behind her, the girl was rubbing the small cut, deeply regretting her former actions.

Oh how she loved it. She absolutely adored the power her position gave her. She loved towering over others, showing them their place and proving she was more than them all. It gave her so much joy.

However…

She would receive more of this delicious feeling if…

No, she wouldn't cater to the thought now. Perhaps later, when there wasn't a battle and the lives of an entire ship in her hands. Oh. There was also that girl to look after.

The rogue groaned and pressed her palm against her temple, lightly mussing her poorly cut hair after discarding her signature bandana. Why did she even kidnap the girl? Hell, what would she even do with her after she's had her way with her? She certainly didn't need another mouth to feed. While an extra pair of helping hands was always needed, she highly doubted the girl would comply with her demands. Even if she were to threaten her.

Much like earlier. How was it that the Damsel merely stood there, every inch of confidence as a sword was pressed against her small frame? It was incomprehensible to her. Judging from her last threatening game, she was a fairly intimidating woman. The girl who was most recently on the receiving end of her blade seemed all too prepared to soil herself. So it wasn't the Ondine who wasn't scary enough… It was that this girl, this unnamed captive, just would not allow herself to be frightened.

But she wouldn't allow herself to get carried away with the girl. She would treat her the same as everyone else. She guaranteed it.

* * *

><p>Rachel nearly jumped out of her petticoat at the sound of a canon firing and her heart leapt into her throat when she heard it crash into the other ship.<p>

_Kurt._

Squaring her shoulders and clenching her fists, she turned to her side and mentally prepared for eminent impact. Taking a few steps back for dramatic flair, she ran head on, shoulder first, towards the door and slammed her entire weight into it. Unfortunately, not only did she force her shoulder blade to make an uncomfortable collision with solid wood, but she also managed to smash the side of her face into the door as well.

A small whimper escaped her lips as she nursed her arm, glaring at the door for its heinous crimes. Mumbling to herself about how the poor tree shouldn't have been sacrificed for such a terrible cause (such as being attached to the ManEater and having to house the Ondine) in the first place, she looked over at the dresser and had another "brilliant" idea.

She would never admit it, but it took her a good five or ten minutes just to position the dresser in front of the door. However, it didn't take her long to convince herself that she had enough strength in her little body to slam the piece of furniture into a door at a high enough speed to break it off its hinges.

Getting into a lunging position, she braced her hands on the sides of the dresser and prepared herself for escape. She already had the route mapped out. She would break down the door, climb over the dresser, run out to the main deck, steal a pirate's sword, cut a rope, and swing to Mr. Schuester's ship.

Another canon went off.

…if his ship was still afloat, that is.

Not willing to waste anymore time, Rachel took a deep breath and pushed with all of her might.

* * *

><p>"Oh Hailey, oh, harder!" The small blonde grunted as she was pressed against the wall with renewed vigor, giving a tiny whimper as the woman towering above her trailed hot kisses down her neck.<p>

"Again, it's Holly."

She didn't necessarily mind that the short bundle in her arms was constantly slurring the wrong name, but she was kind of hoping she would know it by now. After all, they hooked up weekly.

"Aww," the woman clad in a cowgirl hat panted as she reached around Holly, grabbing her firmly by the ass and pulling her closer to her destination. "I'm ssshhorry sugar. Ya, oh, yes, know I don't mean it."

Holly merely rolled her eyes, wondering why she even bothered, as she began a steady grinding rhythm against the drunk. Maybe she had a problem. Sure, flings were commonplace on the ManEater. Well, except for Brittany and Santana. They are fairly exclusive now-a-days, though on rare occasion, they will invite a lucky woman for a threesome.

But that's beside the point.

Why did Holly constantly seek out one forever drunken April Rhodes, offering her a good time and some amusing company? But! In her defense, she and April only happened to be in the same area when the Ondine strolled by and commanded them to guard the door to her room. It was an odd request, but after so long on this ship, you learn to obey in a heartbeat.

Speaking of heartbeats, the little Southern Bell was surely wearing herself out down there. Her face was bright red and she was groaning out little expletives every time Holly moved. Always so responsive. The taller of the two was happily busy nibbling on her ear and unbuttoning her blouse when the Ondine's door slammed open with a resounding crack.

Holly did jump, but was not looking to leave the warmth radiating off of April, so she merely lazily tilted her head to the side. Rachel Berry, stepping over pieces of splintered wood, left the doorway with her show face on, hands on her hips and all. Her gaze drifted over to the two and she let out a small squeak in surprise.

"O-Oh my! I'm so sorry I… I'll just be… Good day!"

Her face undoubtedly red, she marched off, trying not to get caught up in perverse thoughts. She had a mission to accomplish. Now that she was out in the open, she would have to take measures not to be caught. Especially by her captor. That woman would give her hell.

"Is it just me, or do they look like they're trying to board our ship…?" One pirate spoke amongst two others, causing Rachel to press herself up against a wall, trying to make herself look as small as humanely possible.

"They are! I don't know about hand to hand combat though. We all know only the Ondine and Santana are good at it…" A redhead spoke as she nervously began to wring her fingers. She snuck a glance at the other side of the ship, taking in the sight of the first-mate sitting on the very edge of the ManEater, polishing her rapier like they weren't in the middle of a battle.

"Well it's not like we have much of a choice. Just grab a sword and swing and swish. If you get lost, look at the Ondine or just grab a pistol. Now let's go get ready."

Once she heard their retreating footsteps, Rachel slipped out of her hiding place and dashed down the sleeping quarter's corridor. That was close. However, she now realized that all she had to do was simply follow those Harpies to the weapon's room, steal a sword, and be on her merry way.

She had to admit, slinking about on a foreign ship in such a way was kind of… exciting.

There was a chance of certain death, yes, but if she overlooked that tiny detail, she found this to be quite a thrilling experience. Here she was, preparing a heroic escape that, if word got out of it, would deem her a legend. Just picture it now: Rachel Berry, well-known singer, single-handedly escapes the ManEater, having one-upped the Ondine herself! She could feel the pride in herself already. Job well done, Rach. You're an inspiration to all!

"Why thank you, it really wasn't a big deal. They are just pirates after all." Rachel laughed as though she were sharing one with a group of nobles, her hand covering her mouth as many of their women would often do. She was about to continue her imaginary interview when she heard more footsteps approaching.

She realized that yes, this was a pirate ship, but that didn't mean that there had to be Harpies showing up every five seconds. How was a girl supposed to escape like this?

"Hey you, catch!"

"Excuse- ow!"

The brunette was met with a face-full of sheathed sword as one of the pirates she overheard earlier briskly walked by. "Hurry up, girl. We don't have time to mess around!"

Looking up at the woman's retreating form, a large grin spread across Rachel's face. Her acting skills were truly note-worthy! She succeeded in fooling a pirate into thinking she was one of them! Oh Rachel, you are far ready to perform in front of large audiences. You have natural talent that has clearly been overlooked all these years.

Now, to escape. This would be easier than she thought.


	3. Chapter 3

There were several options ahead of Rachel Berry. She could either A, seduce a woman and steal her clothes (a very uncomfortable option, but one the singer was willing to make), B, seduce a woman (why is this a repeating factor?) and beat her up, then take her clothes. The brunette looked down at her balled fists. Her small hands weren't very threatening in their tiny nature. She wasn't sure if she had it in her to randomly assault someone either. Even if that someone was a pirate.

There was option C though! And that was to raid someone's sleeping quarters and steal some clothes. She needed a change of wardrobe if she were to blend in the crowd and avoid the Ondine. She agreed that option C was the safest, nodding as she did so. Glancing down the corridor and at the group of Harpies in the distance, she blindly reached for the nearest door knob and slipped into the dark room.

However, a sudden thought hit the Damsel like a punch to the stomach. _What if someone is in here?_

She instinctively held her breath as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the blackness. Hopefully she could fish some clothes from off the floor or something. Sliding her foot along the wood, she searched for a stray piece of clothing to snatch, ignoring how utterly disgusting it was to do so.

She nearly voiced her revulsion as a bit of dust clung to her panty-hoed clad foot. How, in her right mind, did she ever conclude that leaving her heels in the Ondine's room was a good idea? Now that she thought about it, she more than likely assumed the rest of the ship would be just as spotless. Also, to be honest, she had trouble running about in those damn things and would rather not fall flat on her face while escaping this hell ship.

Is that…

She paused all of her motions.

Is that silk?

Curiosity won the better hand of her and she lifted her foot up, the mystery cloth well attached. She pinched a corner of the obscure article and brought it closer to her face for a better inspection.

Rachel let out a thoroughly shocked yelp and shook her hand, flinging the item from her grasp. P-panties. They were panties. _Wet_ panties. The girl cringed, trying her best not to think about what kind of sexual den she had crawled into.

Breathe, Rachel. If you were honest with yourself, you would realize that you probably should have knocked. You have no one to blame but yourself. You are on a ship full of women who set sail for months at a time without human interaction so… Well… It's okay for them to be sexual and… and yeah.

But she wouldn't trust her foot with this job anymore. Reaching out, she came into contact with some kind of wooden table or dresser. She wasn't entirely sure. Running her hands along the surface, she knocked over several papers, causing her to freeze in place.

One. Two. Three.

Okay, continue.

Finding a little handle, she gave it a hesitant tug and opened the drawer. Taking a deep breath to prepare herself for anything possible scarring, she plunged her hand inside and pulled out the first item. It seemed to be an extremely large dress shirt. She would make due.

Placing the top on the dresser first, she removed her shawl, and lightly folded it before gently putting it on the ground. She worked on her own top first, slipping it over her head and taking the time to fold that as well. If she were stealing someone's clothes and replacing them with her own, the least she could do was not make a mess.

Being slightly apprehensive, Rachel held the shirt in her hands, staring at it for a few moments before putting it on. It slid down her shoulders and pooled at her waist. She had foreseen this. The brunette secured it against her shoulders before gathering the majority of the shirt and tying it into a knot, unfortunately revealing her belly button in the process. Oh well, small prices to pay.

Feeling extremely theatrical at the moment (more like at all moments) Rachel decided that she would need a hat, some boots, and a sash to make her petticoat look more festive. And it seemed like all of these could be found on the bed. Or, to be more correct, _on_ the people _in_ the bed.

Retreating back to the door, she opened it slightly for some light. There were two women in the small bed, sprawled out against each other. One of them had a sash around her wrists, which were awkwardly hanging off the bed, causing her to rest on her own arm. Said woman was snoring lightly and had her cheek pressed against a pair of breasts underneath her. The woman who was surprisingly not being crushed, was sleeping in a spread eagle position, one leg balancing on the edge of the bed. This leg adorned one of the boots Rachel felt she needed.

Once she seized these items, she would just need a hat. Shouldn't be too hard. She hoped.

While she did feel uncomfortable with the idea of taking items directly from people, she knew it simply had to be done. For the sake of fashion! I mean… For the sake of her escape plan! But she was smart enough not to take her chances with that sash. There was no way she was willing to risk untying it.

Sashaying her way towards the foot of the bed (she was a performer, she couldn't help it), she glanced down at the boot-clad feet. Okay, Rach. Just grab her heel, twist, pull, and run. Nodding at her thought process (it was oh so clever), she grasped the woman's foot. Her eyes glued to the Harpy, she pried the boot free. The pirate grumbled and attempted to roll but only got so far, what with the comatose like girl on top of her.

Breathing a sigh of relief from across the room, the brunette slowly made her way back to the bed. She was impressed with herself; she escaped at a break neck speed. Smiling in triumph, she began to work on the other boot. However this time, a pair of blue eyes were burning a hole into her face.

"What are you doing?"

Rachel flinched, her heart going into overtime as she looked up at the woman who was attempting to wriggle her hands out of the sash. Alright Rachel Berry, time to work your acting magic.

"Oh I lent her these old things this morning. But I kind of need them now. Haven't you heard? We're under attack." She explained in an off-hand manner as she slipped her foot inside and began tying up the laces.

"Wait what? Are you fucking serious?" The Harpy stared at her wide-eyed; the ManEater was never ambushed.

"Listen for yourself." Rachel replied with a mere shrug, indicating to the commotion outside their door. "I wouldn't go out there, though. It shouldn't take too long. You know how the Ondine is."

The woman gave a small snort and crashed next to her lover. "You got that right. That woman is vicious."

"Tell me about it…" The brunette muttered under her breath as she finished the other shoe.

"Anyway, I'm off! Wish me luck!" The singer gave a mega-watt grin and made her way to the doorway, utterly pleased with her performance and deception skills. "I'll get you two when it's over."

"Mm, yeah, whatever." Judging by the undeniable scent of rum lingering in the room, it was a fair guess to say that the woman was extremely hung-over and at the moment wanted nothing more than that loud girl out of her room. Luckily, the stranger was making her escape.

Smiling with absolute pride, the Damsel began to strut down the corridor and towards the open area of the deck. It was crowded, women clenching unused swords everywhere. Some were staring down at them as though they had never seen them before. Rachel shook her head with utter disdain. These were the legendary Harpies? They clearly needed more training.

Clicking her tongue at their sorry states, she slipped deeper amongst them, wanting to blend in, snatching a hat from someone's head as she did so. Fastening it onto her own head of umber colored waves; she glanced ahead, noting how the Ondine stood against the wheel of the ship. By the scowl on her face and the tight crossing of her arm, she was about to tear them a new one.

"_Listen to me._"

It was nothing short of a sharp, low command, but it drew all eyes to her. This woman clearly knew her way with a group of people.

"Schuester is on his way and we're running out of time. You _will _fight and we _will _win. There is no other option. Now you will take your swords and you will fight not only for your lives but for all of ours. Am I clear?"

It was quiet as nods erupted like a wave amongst the women.

"I said, am I clear?" The blonde spoke up louder, but her voice like that of a war rally.

"Yes ma'am!" Rachel caught herself joining the others in their cry, pointing her sword up with the rest.

"Now let's show them why we're called Harpies."

* * *

><p>"And what? Did you think I wouldn't notice you?"<p>

Rachel's body tensed up, her back going completely rigid as that voice reached her ears. She was too close for comfort. Apparently she was caught.

The blonde smirked at the woman from behind; amused that she ever thought that would work. The Ondine knew every woman on the ManEater and took pains to memorize everything about them. A good leader knows her crew inside and out. Of course she spotted the brunette in the crowd, that goofy smile of hers being the most noticeable trait.

But she had to admit, she looked good in pirate garb. Hazel eyes trailed her body, taking in every delicious curve from top to bottom. She would prefer her naked, but she will take what she can get for now. Squeezing the rope in her hands to restrain herself, she stepped closer to the girl, daring her to escape.

"I was hoping you wouldn't." She spoke up to her once more and it irked her. Where did she get off talking to a superior like that?

"Well I did. And guess what?" The rogue was close enough now to whisper in her ear and couldn't avoid the temptation. She lightly took the lobe between her teeth, absolutely loving the sharp gasp that came from the Damsel. "I won't let you out of my sight again."

That purr made a shiver run up Rachel's spine and she feared that her knees would buckle. Fortunately, she wouldn't have to worry about that. What with the blonde pushing her into a wooden pole and quickly tying her to it with a sturdy length of rope.

"You are not doing what I think you're doing! You set me free this very instant!" The Damsel kicked and fussed, squirming against the restraints in an attempt to break free.

The Ondine merely gave her a sly smile at her struggles, watching with absolute fascination. She crossed her arms and just watched, not bothering to do much else. It really was a sight to behold.

After a minute, the singer went slack against the pole, taking deep breaths as she had worn herself out. "I-I can't believe you." She hissed, glaring up at the woman with all the anger she could muster.

Raising a brow at her, the blonde gave her an incredulous look. "I'm a wanted pirate and a well-known murderer and you can't believe that I would tie you to a pole of all things? You may want to reevaluate yourself." And with that, she began to take her leave.

"I swear I will make you pay! I will personally send you to the gallows, Ondine! I stake my life on it!" Rachel shouted at her retreating form, knowing full well that no one can escape the Berry wrath. Once she commits herself to someone, she pulls through. She always does.

The last thing the singer remembered before the men boarded the ManEater was the sound of the Ondine's laugh. It was a delightful, contagious sound that broke through the uproars of the oncoming fight.


	4. Chapter 4

Warning: Torture inflicted upon a character

Now that there were a few dozen men fighting their way onto the ship, dread began to set in. Here she was, Rachel Barbara Berry, tied to a pole like some rag doll, in the midst of a battle. The sounds of swords clanging against each other and the grunts from a few well placed blows hung in the air and the brunette felt a trail of sweat slide down her neck. What if someone misjudged the swing of their sword and cut her? What if a ricochet bullet hit her? What if she died here? On a pirate ship one foggy night among wanted strangers. Killed by an accidental swipe. Never having reached her dreams and goals in life. Another corpse tossed into the sea.

She wanted to cry and she felt the tears rising up against her volition. She shut her eyes tight and grimaced, fighting to hold them back, swallowing the fears, the vomit, and the uncertainty away. She had to focus on something, steer her thoughts elsewhere. Opening watery brown orbs, she searched amongst the chaos for a familiar face, her gaze landing on one blonde in particular.

She was breathtaking. The Ondine seemed to glide between her opponents, her arm moving against the wind and dropping like a curtain closing, silencing someone with her strike. If she was particularly close to an enemy, she would rest her hand on their shoulder and force their body to plunge into her spear, watching with little to no interest as its sharp edge poked free on the other side of them. With brute strength alone, she would push them from her weapon and deposit them on the floor like dirty laundry .She then wouldn't give the body another glance and move on to someone else.

She was graceful. She was unforgiving. She was brutal. It was beautiful in a morbid way.

"W-wait, no!"

Rachel began to squirm against her restraints as a burly man approached her, his eyes feral and his sword stained red. "Every Harpy must be killed…" He mumbled harshly under his breath as he gripped his weapon hard enough to see the white in his knuckles.

No, this wasn't going to happen, she wouldn't die. Not here, not now. The brunette struggled to kick high enough to rid him of what could be the cause of her death, trying her best to put up a fight. She felt the tears pool in her eyes as her muscles began to sting from the strain. Her body was shaking and she felt like she had no control over herself, fear taking over all of her motions.

He snarled in disgust at her pathetic attempts and raised his sword, well prepared to deliver a relentless strike. He got closer and closer to her before he slumped against her shoulder, his eyes rolled back and blood spilling from his lips. Rachel shrieked as he slid down her body, leaving spots of his blood on her person.

"I told you I wouldn't let you out of my sight. You won't die tonight. I'll make sure of it." The Ondine didn't look at her as she spoke; she merely freed her rapier from his spinal column and turned away, driving the weapon into another man's midsection. Rachel winced as the red liquid seeped out of him and nearly touched her.

This was too much. Her head was spinning. Everywhere she looked, someone was dying. Towards the end of the deck, Lauren Zizes would hold one man in each hand, slam their skulls together, and send them overboard with an unfeeling laugh. Not far from her, Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce were tag-teaming people, the two completely disregarding weaponry as Brittany would twirl and drive her knee into someone's jaw while Santana would ruthlessly slam her elbow into their shoulder, sending them to the ground where the two would take turns on who would snap the enemy's neck. Holly Holiday was busy steering one April Rhodes away from violence, throwing a good right hook at anyone who got too close to the couple.

Two women, a blonde and a ginger by the names of Terri and Emma were scrambling about the deck in hurried movements. Terri was as cruel, if not more so, than Santana, her attacks wild and hell-bent on causing gore. She would resort to biting if one of the men caught her in their grasp. She also had no qualms with driving her sharp heels into a few crotches. Emma however, wasn't even fighting. She was crying hysterically and scrubbing the red stains from the wood with a toothbrush.

A mammoth of a woman named Shannon Beiste was literally tackling men into parts of the ship, leaving them unconscious on impact. Next to her was a woman of about eighteen who was standing off to the side with a nonchalant look on her face. Fighting was not Sunshine Corazone's thing. To Rachel's right was a woman who looked remarkably like her, one Shelby Corcoran who was performing what looked like a dramatic interpretive, yet deadly dance.

The Harpies were dazzling with their various fighting styles and one look across the deck and one could tell that their opponents would lose. That is until a certain, strangled cry filled the air.

"Fuck! Get him!"

Captain Sylvester was slumped against a pole, blood seeping from her thigh. She grasped it with lightly shaking hands but was far more concerned with William Schuester's retreating form. The man snatched a boy shorter than him before jumping overboard and on to a lifeboat. The blonde was beside herself with rage as she staggered up, bullet wound be damned. She was shouting and pushing anyone in the vicinity away from her, curse words flying from her lips as she hung to the edge of the ship.

"Someone get me a fucking pistol!"

When nothing happened, she whipped her head back, glaring daggers at her crew. "What the hell are you pathetic worms doing? I said get me a fucking pistol!"

The Ondine, after slicing a man's neck, stepped up to her Captain, her face set. "They're too far away now. You won't be able to get proper aim. Just let it go, Captain."

Sue looked at her first mate as if she had sprouted a second head. "What?" she spat out, her gaze hardening as she stared her down. However, the younger blonde was not as affected by her as she used to be. She felt slightly unnerved, but nothing more.

"See for yourself." Her second in command pointed out towards the harsh seas. You would have to squint, but you could make out a small boat drifting against dark waves. Its two occupants were frantically rowing, the oars moving in and out of the ocean with rapid abandon.

The Captain took one look behind her before pushing past The Ondine, nearly knocking her to the ground as she hobbled to the medical ward, Emma following close behind with a roll of bandages and some tweezers for the bullet.

The blonde looked about the open space, seeing most of the men dead. "Throw the rest overboard." Was her single command as she chased her Captain, knowing the woman would want to speak with her.

"Where do you think you're going? Are you forgetting something? I AM TIED TO A POLE STILL! Excuse me? Ondine? Get back here!" By the end of her tirade, Rachel's face was pink from the exertion and she was breathing heavily.

"Oh my god. Shut. Up." Santana hissed from over her shoulder. She already had a headache, having misjudged a man's strength as he had her against a wall. The blow was very unpleasant and she would have castrated him if Brittany hadn't already done that for her.

"But I'm… Can someone please…? Just never mind. I can wait." With a huff, the brunette slumped against the pole, her head lightly resting against it as she gazed up at the stars. "Why me…?"

* * *

><p>"I'm disappointed in you, Q."<p>

The blonde twitched in surprise for the two of them had silently agreed to never even hint at her real name.

"I thought that after being with me for a few years you'd understand." Sue sounded slightly remorseful as Emma plunged a pair of tweezers into the hole in her thigh, blood seeping out in surprising amounts. Her face, however, never indicated that she felt any of the pain. When the bullet was removed, the redhead began to stitch the wound carefully, her movements incredibly precise.

"Understand what?" Q spoke, her eyes never leaving the Captain's, knowing better than to let them stray.

The older blonde snorted before a positively evil look crossed her features. "That you never talk back to me." She sneered before whispering in Emma's ear, the woman's face paling considerably before she scurried off.

"It's been a while since you've been punished, don't you think, Q?"

The first mate felt herself take in a breath but never release it. Her heart was thudding painfully in her chest and as one hand made a tight fist, the other reached around to her side; skimming her fingers along something she knew she would have two of in a few minutes.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" The woman crossed her legs on the medical table, the stitches on her thigh pulling slightly at the seams. Her smile widened once Emma returned, her eyes downcast and something long in her hands.

"You know Q; this is my favorite type of punishment to give. It's one you'll take with you everywhere. It helps people truly learn from their mistakes." She stood up then, taking the item from Emma, looking at it fondly.

The Ondine was shaking now, but she wouldn't cry. She had lived through this once and she would survive it again. "Take of your shirt and face the wall."

Her hands wouldn't be still and properly comply as she worked to pull off her cloak and then her undershirt. Gathering up enough courage to empty her mind, she squared her shoulders and faced the wall with perfect, confident posture.

The Captain pursed her lips, taking her stance as further defiance. Without warning the blonde, she pressed the scalding branding iron in between her shoulder blades. The indescribable yet recognizable scent of burning flesh filled the small space and the Ondine bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, not willing to cry out, except for the occasional hiss. Sue kept the iron where it was for several, excruciatingly long moments, watching as the silver seared her flesh and permanently branded her. When she pulled it away from the singed skin, the outline of a cursive S with a double ended arrow going through it vertically was near the small of her back. It was Sue Sylvester's personal symbol and anyone who defied her received it for life.

The first mate's nails dug into her skin, piercing the flesh the moment the cool air hit her back. She was shaking from head to toe and her skin was nearly chalk-white, her body going into shock from the burns. Sue merely scoffed before exiting the room, a whimpering Emma at her heels.

Shuttering breaths wracked her body for a few moments as she made an effort to compose herself. However, once the Captain was gone, tears silently, yet surely fell. She knew what would happen next. In a few days, she would need to take pains not to lie on her back or take part in any strenuous activities. In a week, it will scab over and she would have to be careful with how she moved, least she infect it. In a month's time, she would be able to lie in bed, feeling its bumpy surface against the sheets. She absentmindedly stroked her old brand on her right hip as she prepared herself to endure it all again.

* * *

><p>"Hey. Damsel."<p>

The sound of the ManEater gliding through the waves reached her ears and she lightly hummed. The seas were always calming with their personal soundtrack.

"Damsel."

Her face scrunched up, that voice was ruining the perfect illusion her mind was making. She was at the beach surrounded by adoring fans that nearly killed each other trying to get her autograph or at least get her to look in their general direction. She lay sprawled out in all of her famous glory, a few bodyguards around her as she lazily answered questions that were thrown at her. This was the life.

"Fine, you asked for this."

A quick rap to her head snapped her out of her fantasies and she nearly growled in anger at the person before her. It was _her. _That pesky, no-good, demented, cocky, scoundrel of a woman. The Ondine, teasing smirk in place as usual.

"What do you want?"

"Well I was thinking of untying you but if you're going to snap at me perhaps I should leave you here overnight. I'm sure the seagulls and the mosquitoes will love the company." And with that, the blonde turned her back to her captive, walking with a questionable limp, towards her private quarters.

Rachel Berry does not grovel nor does she beg. She is a stubborn individual and will take what's handed to her or demand something better. And in this case, demanding is exactly what she was going to do.

"You get back here and untie me right now or so help me I will alert the next ship to pass us that there are wanted pirates here! You will be hanged by dawn if you don't get me down!"

The pirate raised a brow at her words, caught slightly off guard. She was hoping the girl would break down in tears and ask via sobs for her to take her back to her warm room. But here she was- not giving her a choice in the matter.

"I believe I misjudged you."

A ghost of a smile was on her lips as she approached her captive. Pressing her body against hers, she gauged the girl's reaction as she snaked her arms around the pole to untie the rope. Rachel had a frown on her face as she attempted to maintain as much distance as possible, resulting in pressing herself further against the pole until the restraints slipped down her waist. Once she was free, however, she was once again imprisoned. This time by a pair of strong, yet gentle in their embrace, arms.

"W-what do you think you're doing?" she whispered in what she hoped was a harsh tone, but came out sounding more nervous and confused. Shocking her even more was the feeling of soft lips brushing against the column of her neck. She shivered under the light touch and wanted to pull away but couldn't, and not just because of the pirate's hold on her.

"Follow me." Was whispered against the shell of her ear, but judging on the tugging on her wrist, she was being forced to follow either way. The brisk trip to the first mate chamber went by too fast for the Damsel to comprehend, for she was still in the complicated haze the blonde had left her in against the pole.

However, the moment she was pushed into that familiar dark room and then onto navy colored sheets and was looking up at her reflection on the ceiling mirrors, she seemed to sober up. Oh no. This was not going to happen.

The blonde was on top of her without a moment's notice, kissing along her jaw, up to her ear, then back down to her neck in languid movements. As embarrassing as it was, Rachel couldn't help but let a small moan pass through her lips. Contradicting the sound was her hands on the pirate's shoulders, weakly pushing her away.

"No."

That one, hushed word cut through the silence like the Ondine's fencing sword. No? What did she mean no? No one ever refused her advances. To sleep with the Ondine was to have a lover like no other. To feel more pleasure than you ever thought your body capable. To reach your peak over and over again until you were spent and could no longer tell if the tingles running down your spine were just a hallucination or not.

"Excuse me?" The blonde lifted her head from the singer's neck, gazing up at the tiny brunette, her eyes a dark hazel, nearly brown in their lust.

"I'm not going to have sex with you." Rachel wouldn't look at her as she spoke, her eyes darting about the room, not exactly paying attention to the details of it. "And don't bother trying to rape me either; it's not going to happen."

Now she was a little offended by that accusation. She may be a murderer, but she would never rape anyone. She got off of the girl, looking at her incredulously, still not believing how she could possibly be denied. "Are you serious?"

"Like the plague." With that, the little star crossed her arms and gave the pirate a pointed look.

Oh. She was serious. The Ondine took it a little hard as she removed herself from the bed and slowly made her way to the door. She didn't really like her captive, but she wanted to feel something tonight. Take away the pain in her back and in her heart. She wanted to feel good about herself. For once.

"You can stay here tonight. I'll be back in the morning." She spoke with a strong voice, forever talented at shadowing her emotions. This way, she sounded nonchalant and uncaring. Not meeting her eyes, she left the room and softly shut the door behind her.

* * *

><p>Brittany's warm body was flushed against Santana's as she straddled the girl, tickling her neck with her long, blonde hair as it hung around her shoulders. The Latina's hands were happily on her ass, massaging them in her palms as she gazed up at her lover with a clouded look.<p>

The blonde cupped her face and leaned down, brushing her lips across the others, delighting in how soft they were, how soft they always were. She was about to slide her tongue between them when she heard a knock at the door. If anything, Britt was polite. She immediately sat up and skipped her way to the door, naked and all.

When it opened, another blonde was revealed. She looked angry, but if one looked a little harder, they would see that she was hurt, inside and out. Santana sat up, ready to fuss out anyone who ruined her sweet lady kisses, but softened when she saw the Ondine brush by her lover.

"Hey, what happened? Do I need to kick somebody's ass?" Typical Santana question. A hint of a smile crossed the first mate's lips and she turned to the brunette, shaking her head no.

"Well what's up?" She made the mistake, however, of wrapping her arm around the Ondine's shoulder and the pirate jumped at the feeling of her arm touching the brand. A hiss of pain left her and she flinched away from the girl.

Santana's eyes darkened and she thought of her own brand on her arm. "Q?"

The shorter blonde's eyes began to water, but she swallowed and clenched her fists. "Can we just do this?"

The first mate only ever showed up at their room at this time of night when she wanted company. Company in bed.

Brittany locked eyes with Santana before looking back at their friend and nodding. They knew she needed this. The two helped her remove her clothes, being mindful of the burns. They then each took a hold of one of her arms and led her to the bed before sitting her down in the middle. The pair were about to start showering her with kisses when she shook her head once more.

"Let me return the favor early."

She didn't feel like being gentle at the moment, so she, in one swift motion, pinned Santana down. It was a silent rule that Brittany would only get it with care. The Latina would not stand for the Ondine, or anyone, being rough with her lover. So she would release her frustrations on the brunette instead, with a bit of Britt's help as well.

Smiling at the idea of watching her lover be pleasured, the ditzy blonde neared the two. She began kissing along the woman's jaw in earnest as the first mate eagerly went for her breasts. Santana gasped when she felt a tongue glide along her nipple and she pulled Brittany to her, enveloping her in a deep kiss.

Taking the stiff peak into her mouth, she sucked hard and even nibbled at times, remembering that was how the woman liked it. She was lightly squirming under her, but she wouldn't give her what she wanted yet, she was going to prolong it. With a small bite, she moved on to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as she squeezed her free breast.

Santana's hands were on Brittany's ass once again, but she wouldn't do anything for she didn't want to exhaust the girl when it was her turn. One orgasm from the Ondine was always enough. She merely squeezed and caressed, biting back the moans the blonde was driving her to make. That girl was a wonder with her hands and mouth.

She didn't expect it, and once it happened, all she had time to do was submit to her natural reaction. The Latina tipped her head back and moaned in utter pleasure as Q's wet heat encompassed her own. The first mate didn't hesitate to immediately start bucking against her, her moves strong and quick, bringing out whimpers and groans from the woman beneath her.

Santana thread her fingers in long blonde hair and pulled her lover closer, leaving hickeys against her neck as she met the Ondine thrust for thrust.

"Mm, San…"

Britt, on the other hand, tilted her head for her lover and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, wanting more from her. But she was going to come soon and hard, she could feel it in the tightness of her stomach. What sealed the deal was when she felt not one, not two, but three fingers deep within her core. Q had surprised her and she came on the spot with a loud groan, coating her fingers with her essence.

The blonde slid her fingers out with ease and gave them to Brittany, who readily took them between her lips, her eyes already dark and her body well prepared for the Ondine. The first mate looked back at Santana, who was still in a daze, her eyes shut and a smile on her face, before gingerly pushing Britt down against the mattress.

She stayed away from her lips, another unspoken rule, and began kissing and playfully nipping at her neck, being as light as possible. With a mewl, the other blonde reached out to the Latina, wanting her too. Santana was against her in seconds, helping Q trail kisses down her body.

It didn't take her long to get wet, seeing Santana be pleasured took her most of the way there. So the Ondine skipped the preliminaries and headed straight down to her core, running her tongue through the folds with an expert's touch. Brittany gasped and bucked against her waiting face and the brunette took advantage of the situation, plunging her tongue into her blonde's mouth.

Brittany was losing it to the sensations of tongue everywhere. Against her bundle of nerves with an unforgiving flick, against her own tongue and soon moving down towards her breasts. She was moaning and squirming at the feelings the two people she cared about the most were giving her. She couldn't help herself; she reached down with her right hand and held the Ondine's face against her further while her left hand tangled in brown locks, spurring her lover on.

She came with a bang, her voice ringing out around the room, her body tense for one second longer before she slumped against the sheets and into waiting arms. The highest ranking woman licked the wetness from her lips and looked up, seeing two pairs of hungry eyes on her. She let a shiver run down her form as she crawled towards them.

Brittany was careful with her; she put a pillow down for the blonde to lie on so her back wouldn't ruin the pleasure. With a grateful smile, she relaxed against the cushion. San and Britt had a strange, telekinesis like bond when it came to threesomes and they did not have to discuss their game plan before acting. In quick motions, they were both kissing different sides of her neck, biting all of her favorite places, sucking at all of her sensitive spots. They moved down at the same time and each took a nipple into their mouths. It was incredible, it was sensational, it was just what the blonde needed.

Small noises of approval were leaving her like wildfire and she needed them in her now. And somehow they knew that. Santana was circling a finger around her entrance in no time at all, coating it in her juices before sliding two fingers in. Q began to grind her hips against her hand, needing to feel her against her walls, needing to feel that there was in fact somebody with her right now. She needed the company, so bad. Brittany was not left behind, however. She went to San's left, knelt down, and took the Ondine's bundle of nerves between her lips, sucking her at an unrelenting rate.

That was all it took for the blonde to come undone with a silent cry. She lightly shook with the aftershocks of her orgasm and her eyelids fluttered. A proper end to an unforgiving night.

* * *

><p>She could feel the light rising and falling of Santana and Brittany's chests as she lay between the two. She couldn't sleep. Her back stung with a pain unlike any other and her spirit was still wounded. All in all though, she was tired of this. She was tired of crawling into someone's bed every other night. She just wanted somebody to love her, but she never expected anyone to ever want to. A tear rolled down her cheek and with a sigh, she attempted to sleep.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Rachel fell into consciousness, well pressed against linen sheets and an indescribably soft pillow behind her head. She was awake, but she didn't open her eyes. She simply sighed with a content smile on her face and tried to sink lower into the mattress. She had just partaken in quite a dream. For some odd reason, the Ondine chose to kidnap her of all people! Ridiculous, she knows. She even tried to have sex with her! Some dream, right?

But, if that was a dream, then Rachel wouldn't be in a bed right now. With a small shiver, she knew exactly where she would be. Outside. If one was available, she would be curled up on a bench. She was a peasant, and a homeless one at that, and could never be afforded the opportunity to sleep in a bed. The last time she could remember having been in such a situation, she was ten years old. Eight years had gone by since then. Eight years of not remembering what a bed felt like beneath her tired bones.

So in that moment, she knew it wasn't a dream. She knew that she would open her eyes and stare up at a mirror-clad ceiling, gazing at how she was covered in navy sheets. She would wake up in a stranger's bedroom. In the Ondine's bedroom. After refusing her advances.

Rachel sat up with a small frown playing on her lips. She wasn't exactly worried per say, but she was curious as to where the blonde had spent her night and if she was okay. Emotionally so! It's not every day someone as lovely as she had to deny someone. She was simply worried over how the pirate was taking the rejection. That was all. Hell, if she were honest with herself, she should get used to telling people no. Soon she will be a star and having to constantly tell adoring fans that she, for now, will continue to enjoy the single life.

"Hey! Get up!"

The poor brunette nearly suffered from a heart attack, the loud banging on the door and the harsh voice successfully pulling her free from her thoughts. She sat up in seconds, one hand gripping the sheets behind her and the other over her faltering heartbeat.

"You're wanted on deck, freshmeat!"

Scrambling out of bed, she hopped on one foot as she put on a boot and made her way to the dresser where her hat lay ready. Once her shoes were on, she fastened the hat on her head and tied a knot with her shirt, completing her look.

The captive left the first mate chambers, legs-a-shaking, and practically ran to the deck. By the time she arrived, her appearance was slightly disheveled and she was breathing heavily. An annoyed, hot-tempered blonde stood before her, a sickly sweet smile on her face.

"Here are your weapons." Handing her a mop and a bucket, Terri gave her a mocking glance before heading off to the kitchen to snag something for breakfast. Rachel stood, surrounded by a few other Harpies, cleaning implements in hand.

This was it? This is what she was needed for? Rachel was almost upset. She thought she would have to kidnap people or something. Not like she actually would! Heavens no! She would… She would politely decline, of course. She just wanted to seem important.

In fact, she wanted to show that damn blonde, the Ondine, that she was irreplaceable. She wanted to show the pirate that she was a rare gem that could accomplish any task given to her. She wanted that woman to beg her to be a part of the crew.

It's not like she actually wanted to be a pirate. Her goals were still well placed in the entertainment business. She simply wanted to crush that pirate. And also show her that she wasn't just some frilly captive.

But how would she do that?

The brunette inched towards a small group of Harpies, eager to glean some information from them. An Asian woman was laughing with two others and she assumed that she would be the easiest to converse with.

"Excuse me? Can I ask you something?" Excitable as always, she stood before the stranger, smile bright as the sun that morning.

"Um… sure?" Tina looked about confused, but figured there would be no harm in it. As long as the Ondine didn't see. She was pretty sure she would get in trouble if the blonde was about.

"Who is the strongest opponent on this vessel?" Oh yes, she had a plan. Rachel Berry would fight the top dog and win. Her recognition would sky-rocket, and not just on the ManEater. If word got out of this, she would be a legend. So smart, this girl was.

"The Ondine, of course."

Oh. Um. Not good.

"…the second strongest?"

"Santana, without a doubt." This Santana woman sounded like she would be just perfect for the role of the loser.

"Which room is she in?"

One of the girls with Tina laughed, placing her hands on her hips. "If you're looking for a threesome, they hardly ever invite anyone."

A three-

Rachel's face exploded with color, it turning considerably pale before scarlet. "N-no! That's not… I… I was just…"

"Whatever, it's the first room on the right."

Dropping the mop, the brunette dashed away as fast as possible, not wanting to be in the same vicinity as them any longer. Oh god, what was wrong with these Harpies? Was everything sex of the homosexual variety and murdering people? That can't be healthy behavior!

Arriving at what she assumed was the correct door, she stood before it, catching her breath, before knocking on its hard wood surface. The door swung open seconds after, and a stoic blonde stood at the door. She immediately recognized her as the Ondine.

Hazel eyes swept her up and down before brushing past her, her face a blank. She could hear someone from behind the door shouting for her to come back and let them make sure she was okay, but she didn't see, for her eyes were glued to her retreating form. The blonde entered her room and closed the door with a resounding click of a lock.

What was with her? It was like she didn't even see Rachel. Not even a flicker of recognition crossed her face when their eyes met.

Frowning, the brunette brought her attention back to the room and was met with cleavage in her face. A much taller blonde stood before her, smiling down at her.

"Hi! I'm Brittany! Are you here for sex? I'm sorry, but we're done for now. But maybe you can come back later! You're hot."

Rachel stood with her mouth agape, trying to form some kind of reply to that. But what was she to say? Thank you? Maybe I will stop by la- No! No you will not, Rachel Berry! You have business to do!

"U-um, is Santana here?"

Brittany looked over her shoulder to call her girlfriend, but the Latina was already by her side. "What do you want, Elf?"

Elf? Was she referring to her? She'll let that slide for now, there are more important things to do. "I request that you agree to challenge me to a duel between you and I at your earliest convenience- which I would prefer to be right now."

Santana stared at her for what felt like at least five minutes before replying. "You should just kill yourself. It'll be faster and it won't involve me dirtying my sword."

Looks like she'll have to try a little harder. "Well Santana, it is understandable that you would be hesitant to fight me. I am talented in many things and can see how that would intimidate you. However, no worries! I'm sure you'll do just fine!"

The Latina wasted no time in punching her in the face.

Rachel's hand was against her right eye, surely covering a black ring around it as she stammered and fought tears. "I-I meant with swords!"

"Sorry, must have heard you wrong." She sneered before reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing her weapon. "Now let's do this, I can't wait to send you back to Santa's Workshop in pieces."

* * *

><p>The moment Kurt stepped foot on dry land, he counted his lucky stars. It was a miracle that he escaped at all. Once his little moment was over, he hailed a chauffeur, and made his way to the Hummel estate, his face ever serious.<p>

Yes, he was lying. Or, he had been lying to Rachel for two years. He was not the little, homeless teenager with a similar background and the same goals she thought him to be. In fact, he was a noble. A noble looking for talent like hers, but knowing he couldn't give her fame on a silver platter. The brunette felt she had to earn it and he thought tonight was the night to finally give it to her. But then the Harpies decided to ruin everything.

His heart clenched painfully in his chest and his eyes were already watering. He allowed her to be kidnapped. It was his fault she wasn't living the high life right now. He would do something; by god he would do something now. He had connections. He had influence. He had power.

"Mr. Hummel, Mrs. Hummel would like a word with you." The doorman said with a small smile as he moved aside, allowing the man entrance.

Kurt nodded at him as he made his way to the main dining area where his wife sat, happily chatting with the maids. He smiled at her and hugged her tight, fearing that he wouldn't have been able to see her again given how last night played out.

"Mercedes."

The woman quickly hugged him back, absolutely ecstatic about seeing her best friend, er, husband, again. She had some great news.

"Kurt! Did you tell Rach? Someone called this morning about hiring her!"

His face fell at her words and he quickly looked away, his fingers playing with the end of his scarf. "I need to contact you-know-who…"

Mercedes gave him a confused look. He invites the man over the second he returns? Sure, they weren't having sex, due to multiple reasons, one being the most obvious, but wasn't this a little much?

"Kurt?"

"Somethings happened to Rachel and… I just can't right now. I'll be back." Not wanting to seem weak in front of his employees, he kept himself from crying and briskly left for his study, needing to talk to Commander Hudson as soon as possible.

* * *

><p>With a precise thrust of her arm, the tip of the blade brushed against the sensitive skin of Rachel's cheek. She ignored the blood trailing down her jaw and raised her sword, causing it to clash with Santana's. Side-stepping away, she performed a quick pirouette and attempted to strike again, only to be pushed back from the blunt force of their swords meeting head on.<p>

Santana's title of second-best was well earned. She was positively ruthless with her movements. And this only served to egg the crowd they've gained on. They were making a chant out of the Latina's name and openly laughing at Rachel's faltering motions.

However, when Santana stepped back to high five a Harpy, Rachel lunged forward and buried a good inch of her blade into the woman's forearm. The group went silent.

What sounded strikingly like a growl left her opponent's lips and she was kicked in the stomach, knocking her to the ground. Eyes struggling to regain focus, she peered up at a sword being pointed at her neck, ready and willing to slit her throat.

Santana's free hand was against her wound, applying pressure for it to stop bleeding, and she had somewhat of a sly smile on her face. Her eyes were dark, bloodthirsty even, as she gazed at her prey. Oh, she would love killing her. She ran the weapon along the smooth flesh of her neck, digging in a bit to slightly pierce the skin, but not enough to leave her with a gaping cut. She would drag this out.

Really? This is it? This is how Rachel's life plays out? Having a childhood for the ages, living as a decrepit teen hungry for acceptance, and finally dying? After nearly dying twice already in the span of one day? And this is overlooking Santana's first threat to throw her overboard!

She was going to die and no one was going to stick their neck out for her this time. Kurt was presumably on land, William Schuester with him. Tina, the woman she met earlier, was in the far back of the crowd, too scared to move. The Ondine even, was locked away in her room.

She was going to die. She slowly began to accept this as she gazed into hard brown eyes, her look unfaltering. She was going to die. Okay. That would be okay. Her breathing began to even out as she thought about seeing her father again. That would be nice. He was the root of all of her problems, but it would be nice to see him again. She missed going to the park on warm Sunday mornings with the man. Holding his hand and talking about everyday life. Maybe they could do that again? In Heaven or wherever else her soul would go? That'd make dying worth it, right?

"This better be sleep deprivation making me see this Santana, or there will be trouble."

No one moved a muscle at the sound of her voice. Santana herself seemed to tense for a moment before looking over her shoulder at the blonde. Her expression was one of utter seriousness with a touch of disappointment.

"That's _my_ captive." She stated in a matter-of-fact way as she tilted her head towards the stunned brunette on the floor.

That was essentially all she needed to say. Santana retreated into the crowd, her sword hitting the ground with a clang. Brittany led her off towards the Hospital wing to Emma, whispering things in her ear the entire time.

With a flick of her wrist, the Harpies started to disperse. The blonde then glanced down at the frazzled girl, her brow quirking up at the sight.

"You have zero survival instincts."She bluntly said, speaking on how many times she's caught her putting her life on the line for things. Speaking up to her when they first met. Trying to fight off a man twice her size and age while tied to a pole. Now attempting to take on one of her finest in battle. She had guts; she would give her that, but zero survival instincts.

"Excuse you! I've survived countless times!" The girl huffed as she got up, swiping her thumb along the cut on her face as she did.

"With my help." The Ondine pointed out with a small smirk before putting up a stern front. "I'm not here to kid around though. Come with me."

Without a glance back, she made her way towards a latch on the deck. Prying it open, they were met with a dark cavern, the only thing visible being a worn ladder. The blonde trudged down into the unknown area, silently commanding Rachel to follow. A little nervous about where she was being taken, she followed on wobbly knees.

Pulling a match out of her cloak, the Ondine lit a lamp, lighting the area up. The space was revealed to be what looked like several jail cells. Once realizing what was going on, Rachel spun on her heel and began ascending the steps again. However, the pirate took a fistful of her shirt and pulled her back down.

Having the small girl still in her grasp, she forcibly threw her into an open cell and on to the hard floor. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Rachel winced at her tone, shrinking into herself a bit, trying to become invisible. It hurt to be yelled at by her.

"Why do you have to make a spectacle out of yourself? Do you not understand how dangerous that is? What? You think you're going to be some big shot? Well you aren't. Because you're never leaving this ship." The blonde felt like she was saying these things to herself and bit her lip as she took in the brunette's hurt expression. She should apologize.

"I'm-"

"No." Rachel stopped her with a harsh look swimming beneath her teary eyes. "I won't sit here and let you talk to me like that when I know I'm made for something better, for something more. My dad told me so." That last part slipped between her lips unnoticed and she tensed the moment she caught it.

"Your dad?"

The brunette glared up at her, as though she were a completely different, far more guarded person. "Don't go there."

The Harpy could respect that, she reasoned with herself. She had her own skeletons. However, her fingers formed uncertain fists as her eyes met cloudy chocolate eyes. "I'd listen." She murmured under her breath and the captive's eyes widened at her words.

"Don't… Don't tell me those things." She won't put her trust into someone like that, especially someone who just spoke to her in such a manner. She wasn't going to trust her, trust anyone other than Kurt, with her thoughts. With her story, so to speak.

"Just know that I would." The rogue spoke to the floor and she swallowed before taking a step back. Turning around, she left the cell, keeping the door open. Her left foot on the first step, she looked back at the broken girl on the floor, her eyes softening. "My door is always unlocked."

* * *

><p>"Hey Kurt!" The tall, somewhat lanky man gave the shorter boy a dopey smile as he strode into his home, his military uniform jingling. Giving a sheepish wave over at Mercedes, he scaled the stairs and made a left, going straight for the guest room. More like his room, really.<p>

Kurt followed him and closed the door behind him with a soft click. He opened his mouth to speak, but Finn had him in his grasp, pulling him into a tender kiss. The boy sighed against his lips and ran his fingers through short black locks, kissing him back in return.

He was about to do more when he remembered why he called his secret lover there. "Finn, wait!" Lightly pushing against his huge chest, he peered up at the man tentatively.

The somewhat slow military leader frowned, his eyes slightly panicky. "What's wrong, man? D-does someone know? A-are you breaking up with me? Is it something I did? If it was flushing your brush down the toilet, I didn't mean it!"

"Finn. It's okay." He forced himself to smile to calm the man's nerves. It worked like a charm. The guy sighed in relief and smiled back.

"Oh good, I was worried for a second there."

"I know you were, but I need you to listen: I need a naval fleet ready within the day."


	6. Chapter 6

I highly, highly recommend listening to PAPA, CAN YOU HEAR ME? The Glee Version while you read certain parts.

* * *

><p>Drip, splish.<p>

Drip, splish.

Drip, splish.

This was the soundtrack of Rachel Berry's night in a cold, damp jail cell. Her shaky legs were curled against her chest, her arms wrapping around her calves. Dull, preoccupied brown eyes watched the leak that had sprung from somewhere in the floor boards above her. She saw each individual drop, yet she somehow wasn't watching them. Her mind was elsewhere, in a time unlike her own.

Lip ensnared between her teeth, she debated taking action. Was it truly worth it? Opening up to someone in such a way? She knew she needed to let it go, deep in the pit of her being she knew it. They say talking can solve your problems, but the brunette highly doubted it. Regardless of what her brain made sense of, she decided to with what her heart wanted. Which, as a born drama queen, she thought was theatric enough.

The Damsel made sure the sky was dark, judging the time of day based on what little light crept into the room, before leaving. The Harpy did, in more or less terms, say she could go to her, right? She frowned, pausing mid-step as she thought back on their earlier encounter.

She shouldn't go to her. That woman would only cause her pain. She clenched her fists tightly at her sides and stared hard at the creaky floor, nearly burning holes into it with the power of her concentration.

But she seemed so sincere and dare she say… apologetic? She would go. She would go now before she changes her mind and sees reason. Racing up the steps, she gave the ceiling door a rough shove, sending it swinging open.

Scrambling out of the cellar, she nearly sprinted across the deck, almost slipping across the newly polished wood. Emma was impeccable. After surviving the trip, Rachel made her way down the sleeping quarters, trying not to make a sound in fear of being caught by a rogue Harpy and being thrown back into the jail cell, this time with the door locked.

In minutes, she was standing before the large, slightly intimidating door. Moonlight painted its edges in a misty blue and she stared captivated for a few seconds. It was the same color that reflected on a stand and a swinging form ten years earlier. A whimper escaped her lips and she shut her eyes tight before grasping the knob and turning it.

"Ondine?" She whispered to the form lying among dark sheets. She watched the steady rise and fall of the blonde as she slept and Rachel let out a relieved sigh. So it was pointless coming to her. She looked on as the venerable woman shifted lightly to the side, leaving just enough room for someone to join her. Glancing back at the door, then to the pirate, she slowly closed the entrance and made her way to the bed.

The mattress dipped down as she sat on the foot of it, staring at the palms of her hands. "I'll tell you now, even though you're asleep." She whispered to the shadows. "In a way, it's better like this."

Now Rachel could get some of the closure she needed and no one had to know. It was like telling your secrets to an empty room, except she had the comfort of at least knowing someone was there to hear, even if they didn't know it.

How could she ever hope to sum up the majority of her life in one night? God, where would she begin? She looked down at the scuffed boots, taking in the dirt caked on the laces, and knew exactly where she would start.

"My dad made it a tradition of ours to go to the park every Sunday morning. It started when I was five." She smiled slightly at the flood of weekly memories that hit her. "I would, I would race down the steps in my Sunday best and round the corner of the old house, looking for him at exactly 9 'o clock."

"He would set down his newspaper and pick me up. He would carry me over to my mom and kiss her on the cheek before taking me outside. We only lived a block or so from the park, so we would always enjoy the walk. When we'd get there, I would take his hand and chase the birds with him. Then he would push me on the swings and tell me stories he came up on a whim. Things like what ice cream talk about while in the ice cream truck- things like that."

She laughed a light, airy giggle as she recalled one story, a delighted smile gracing her face. "Even as I got older, we would always go to the park. It was our thing and I absolutely loved it." However, her expression turned into a somber one as she looked down at her hands.

"When I was eight, we started spending less time together. In fact, I hardly saw him at home. He was always so busy. 'I have to work to make your dreams come true, Rachel', he'd tell me. And I would smile and shoulder the loneliness, telling him I was proud of him- and I was."

Rachel bit her lip and gave a shaky breath as she clenched her fists. "One day, I came home from school and my mom and dad were having a fight. His friend, Leroy, was sitting on the stairs, his head in his hands. When I opened the door, he looked up at me with a smile and waved. I waved back and tried to move past him to see my parents, but he wouldn't let me."

"Instead, he had me go to my room with him, where I sang a few songs. He always made a good audience. That same year, when I was nine, I started seeing more of Leroy and more arguments. Whenever I caught them fighting, either Leroy would show up to play with me or my mom would leave the house and Dad would hug me and tell me what a good girl I was."

The brunette sniffled and roughly wiped away her tears before continuing. "The next year, my mom had gone to the press with a story. I remember picking up the newspaper from our driveway and reading the headline. Hiram Berry, Town Homosexual. I didn't know what that meant and had to ask him. His face turned white and his hands shook as he held the paper. I knew whatever it was had to be bad, so I sat on his lap and hugged him as he cried. It was the only time I had ever seen him cry."

Her shoulders were shaking and she heaved a small sob as tears clouded her vision. "T-the police charged in and pushed me off of him. Two men grabbed each of my dad's arms and dragged him out of the house. I got up to chase after them but one of the men told me to keep in the house like a woman should and pushed me back down."

"He didn't get a trial. He didn't even get jail time." She spat out in anger, her nails digging into her palms. "H-he was immediately put on a stand with Leroy in front of the Town Hall. When I finally arrived, I forced my way through the crowd and tried to climb up on the stage, but Daddy told me to… to go home."

Rachel was openly crying now, tears running down her face as her body trembled. "I refused and started to panic when I saw the rope. I screamed for them to stop and started fighting against the people around me. Hands held me down on the ground as a man came up to my dad and fastened the… the n-noose around his… his neck."

"H-he looked down at me and it… it was like time had frozen. It was just me and him, looking at each other. He gave me a small smile and said… 'Be a star, Rachel. I know you can, baby. I'll be watching'." Rachel's voice broke as she gripped the sheets.

"Then the trap-door fell and-" She couldn't continue. She just sat there and cried, long, harsh sobs. She felt like she was hyperventilating, the air closing in around her throat. Her heart beat rapidly as she saw her father swinging behind her eyelids. She remembered pulling away from the citizens and running to the park, falling on the rough sidewalk and scraping her knees. The swings called her name and she clung to their chains, sobbing against them until her hands bled from gripping the metal.

"I-I came back later that night and… And he was still there!" She shouted at the dresser, her eyes shut tight and burning. "They didn't even cut him down!" She recalled falling into the dirt, looking up at his body illuminated by the moonlight. She remembered the way the grass and dirt felt against her open wounds in her hands as she gripped the Earth for dear life, feeling like she would drop dead any second.

"D-Dad? Can you hear me?" she had whispered to the stand, her voice dying in the back of her throat. "You're okay, right?" She tried convincing herself, as she sniffled against the ground, not looking up at him. "W-we can go get Mom and… And she can help you get better."

The flutter of clothes against the wind hung in the air and she curled up into a ball on the ground and slept to its sound. "When I woke up, he was gone and so was my mom. She had fled town and left me with nothing. I couldn't even inherit the money Daddy was saving for me…" Rachel ground out as her shaking began to come to a stop.

"I had to live on the streets, but I always spent my nights at the park. In the daytime I fought for the chance to prove myself to nobles. I had to live out my dream for my Daddy. I have to even now. W-what would he do if he saw me now? What if he does see me right now?" She whispered before her bloodshot eyes widened slightly. "D-Dad? Can you hear me?" She repeated her words from so long ago into the dark room, never expecting an answer, but having to voice it anyway.

She shook her head and settled into the sheets next to the slumbering pirate. "You have to let me go, Ondine. I need to go for my Daddy..." Looking up at her reflection in the mirror, she hiccupped for a few seconds. "Please forgive me, Daddy. I'm try- trying." She rolled onto her side and cupped her face in her hands, shaking against them.

Rachel tensed when she felt an arm drape over her waist. "Rachel." The voice to her right spoke in a clear voice. She was awake the whole time and now she knew her name and her past. The brunette didn't say anything, but she placed her left hand over the one on her hip, giving it a light squeeze.

* * *

><p>The Ondine lay on her side with the brunette's back pressed firmly against her front, the dozing girl shifting there in her sleep. With a small, resigned sigh, the blonde took hold of her shoulders and lightly shook her. She needed to wake Rachel up and tell her that she had to leave for the night. It was better to wake her up than to let her greet the morning alone in bed. Again.<p>

"Rachel." She whispered against her ear, watching as the Damsel stirred before giving a soft hum in reply. "I need to leave. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

When she was given no response, the Harpy shook her head before sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. As she tried to get up, however, a tiny hand encompassed her wrist, anchoring her to the bed.

"Wait."

"Yes?" The Ondine questioned, her eyes on Rachel's reflection from the ceiling. Her captive was curled into herself again, vulnerability personified in her posture. However, her voice was ever confident.

"You know my name, now I must know yours. It's common courtesy." She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone with a huff and all.

A small smile played on the pirate's lips as she looked back at the girl. "Quinn."

They were silent for several seconds before the Damsel released her grip. "It's nice to meet you, Quinn." Rachel whispered sincerely as she eyed the wall, her arms coming up to cover her barely-clad form.

"The pleasure is all mine." The first mate replied with a small laugh before she left her room, closing the door softly behind her. "Who says that to their kidnapper?"

* * *

><p>Her knuckles rapped against door after door as she briskly walked past the sleeping corridors. Each knock was a quickly played out tune, the sound derived from the opening line of 'Mary had a little lamb'. It was Quinn's code, calling certain Harpies to meet her.<p>

Once she had left the signal at certain doors, she made her way to the Hospital Wing, waiting for others to accompany her. The blonde made herself comfortable at Emma's usual chair, reveling in the small sense of power the physician's seat gave her. With power comes control and Quinn knew that more than any other.

Santana and Brittany were the first to arrive, clad in merely bras and panties. Despite their outfits, they both wore serious expressions as they took a seat. The Ondine nodded at them, the two returning it in kind, before others arrived.

"What's going on, Heidi?" A slur of a voice asked outside the door, along with a loud thump of a body hitting it.

"Again, it's Holly." Said blonde led April inside, followed by a clearly annoyed Terri, a still somewhat asleep Shannon, a huffy Shelby, a nervous Emma, a shuffling Tina, and a wide awake Sunshine.

Once everyone was quiet and seated around Quinn, she cleared her throat and began to speak. "You all know why we're here. It's time to put our plan into action. We're taking over the ManEater."


End file.
